


Spineless and Heavy

by ExplicitFeedFics



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Body Worship, Burping, Cooking, Dom/sub, Dominance, Embarrassment, Fat Shaming, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Food, Food Kink, Force-Feeding, Furry, Gluttony, Groping, Hand Feeding, M/M, Manipulation, Messy eating, POV First Person, Porn, Sex, Stuffing, Teasing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExplicitFeedFics/pseuds/ExplicitFeedFics
Summary: Silver finds it hard to turn down the food that Shadow makes for him. Such a small person ends up eating so much, and yet he still can't say no.
Relationships: Shadow the Hedgehog/Silver the Hedgehog
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Spineless and Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write something like this with these two for a while, but I never got around to it. By the way, I had them wear clothes simply because it provided more opportunities for weight gain-based horniness. Lemme know if I should write a second chapter chronicling a specific feeding session or a specific day of the two's new relationship. And I use the hedgehogs' canon height to judge weight in this.

I was beginning to wonder how I had gotten himself in this mess.

Shadow and I had been in a relationship for a bit more than a year and a half now, and our time together had been nice. I was still a little bit astonished that Shadow reciprocated my feelings that day I confessed them. I swore I was going to come back home injured. But instead, Shadow showed off his sweet, tender side— a side that I’d only seen occasionally before then. Now, while Shadow was still a bit cold, a bit obstinate, a bit blunt, and yet still a bit reserved, he showed me, and only me, a previously unknown appreciation. And Shadow had the same feelings for me that I had and still did feel. And I knew that. It was nice.

But recently, things had been made a bit more complicated. Shadow had always been a bit domineering, and I was a bit more, well, spineless. But Shadow had been leaning into it more and more recently.

Shadow was a fit individual; he was the ‘ultimate life form’ and all that. He was slim and had tone that indicated abs. I wasn’t so focused on working out or whatever, but I was in shape. Shadow, well, he seemed to want to change that. It was maybe two months ago that Shadow had started to cook for the two of us in the evenings. I appreciated it. I typically cooked, but I was happy to delegate the task to Shadow when he was eager to do it. When he did cook, however, he cooked a lot. He would typically, annoyed, claim that he had bought too much, or that he had been shopping while hungry. But he would continue to be annoyed, even as we ate. It was, as I know now, an act. One that convinced me to subtly eat more than I might usually, or more than I might even want to, just to finish it, or at least eat enough that the leftovers would fit in the fridge.

It was maybe a week and a half, nearly two weeks later, that he started to pick up baking. I was surprised. Shadow had shown no interest in it before, and it barely seemed like the kind of activity Shadow would spend time on. But, I didn’t even think about questioning him about it; he seemed to enjoy it, in the way that enjoyed things, and I thought that maybe he was starting to let himself relax. He baked cookies, some muffins, cinnamon rolls, brownies. He even baked a massive cake for Tails’ birthday! We ended up taking home a huge chunk of cake that night. But Shadow would end up having me eat a lot of these things. It was sharing, or encouraging me to have a couple. I barely saw him eat any. I saw him actually eat maybe eight things. He loaded the rest onto me, or left them on the pan on the counter, or, as was the case with the cake, it was loaded into the fridge, and he would later complain very vocally that there was no space in there. So I ate them. They tasted amazing, compliments to the chef, but I was mostly eating them due to clever psyops. I did appreciate the effort he spent, and, like I said, they were delicious. But after a week or two of daily baking and dozens of trays of pastries and the like, I was starting to notice some things.

He still cooked dinner, more often than I did at that point, and just about every meal was paired with something he baked. Breakfast was cinnamon rolls or muffins, lunch would have some cookies afterward, and for dessert that evening there would be brownies or maybe even cake. Each thing he baked, too, was so buttery. It was probably more butter than food. My fingers were always greasy afterwards, as were my lips. It felt so filling. And after every meal, I felt completely stuffed. After breakfast, I was full, only to be even fuller after lunch, and by the end of dinner, I was bloated and ready to sleep. It felt like near-constant eating. It was at this point I noticed my midsection was wider, and after weighing myself, I found that I had gained nearly ten pounds. I could grab something of a potbelly. My shirts were tight, and so were my pants. But before I could really even form any thoughts on it, Shadow called me over to dinner.

A couple of nights later, I was starting to feel like maybe I should say something. At this point I didn’t suspect he had any ulterior motives, I just thought he was a bit too eager, and that maybe I should just let him know to slow down a bit, or to load some of the food onto our friends. But I bit my tongue and kept eating. Speaking of which, this was about the point where Shadow started to be a bit more dominant. At dinner that night, he finished his small portion rather quickly, and, while we continued to have a conversation, he just watched me eat. I was a bit confused, perhaps even a bit nervous, but I kept eating. The moment I finished, ready to wrap up the conversation and lie down, he grabbed my plate and filled it up with another serving. And he simply told me to keep going.

I was thrown off, but after a moment, I sheepishly continued to conversation and kept eating. After that, he gave me another serving. And by the end of that, I had eaten the rest of what he’d made. I ate three huge servings of super buttery noodles. And afterwards, I quickly wrapped up what we were saying and excused myself, and I walked, although it felt like I waddled, to our bedroom, and I lied down. The next night, he got me several unrequested servings again. And by the end of that week, I had gained fifteen pounds in total. My shirts lifted up and showed off my belly when I leaned back any amount, and the fabric was taut between my two new moobs. My pants were tough to squeeze into. If things kept up, I was going to say something.

Not only did things keep up, they sped up. That night, Shadow made an even larger dinner, and he sat right beside me. When, after eating three and a half servings of ham, I said that I was full, he started to feed the rest to me. And I didn’t stop him, not wanting to upset him for refusing his food. I, in total, ate five servings of ham, and my stomach was utterly full. It felt like I had eaten a rock, and every step I took to the bed to lie down punctuated with a sharp pain. Alone, in our bedroom, I groaned and massaged my bloated stomach. I planned on saying something tomorrow morning. This couldn’t keep up.

I didn’t. And things could. I was fed extra servings of cinnamon rolls, which made a mess on my face. I felt like a slob. And my new weight made me feel fat. But actually confronted with the guy I loved, feeding me the breakfast he had lovingly made for the both of us, although seemingly more for me, I couldn’t tell him that I couldn’t stand to eat another cinnamon roll. He was cold, but he was sensitive, too.

He fed me more than I thought I could stomach at every meal, and with every dessert,l for a week and then some. I had gained nearly thirty pounds in total. We had had to go shopping for new clothes the day before. He held me close and tried to distract me when I fruitlessly tried to pull my shirt down to cover my belly. My pants stretched at the seams. My shirt didn’t cover me up anymore. I felt stuffed all the time, like I was in some sort of hazy food coma every waking minute. It felt like, no matter how much I wiped at my mouth with a napkin, or my hand, or even if I took a shower, they still felt buttery and greasy. I had to go two sizes up. I hadn’t had to do that before. Regardless, I was fat now. There was no denying it. I was practically obese! I wasn’t that tall, and I hadn’t weighed that much to begin with. And now I was nearly 130 pounds. I was, if I hoped to bring my weight down, going to have to work out for months. Every time I climbed the stairs I was exhausted and sweaty. Things that had been easy were starting to be a hassle now, just on account of my weight. I walked, fat jiggling with every step, into the bedroom and I confronted Shadow. It had gone on for long enough.

I opened the bedroom door, and Shadow was on the bed, reading some book. “Shad?” I asked to get his attention.

“Silver?” he reciprocated., lowering the book.

“So,” I walked to the bed and sat down. The springs protested and the weight shifted. I felt so heavy. “I have to talk to you.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. It’s, uh, it’s about your cooking?” I felt anxious. I was hoping to not have to have this talk. I had hoped he would just slow down, cook less. But he didn’t. My hand had been forced! My fat, buttered hand, as it were.

“What about it?” he sounded annoyed.

“Well, I love that you’ve taken up the cooking. Your food’s good! And I love the things you bake. But I think I’ve been eating too much recently, and I think you need to slow down a bit.”

Shadow looked away for a moment, and I had no idea what his face looked like. I had no idea if he was understanding or if he was mad. “Slow down what?”

“Um, cook a bit less. Make smaller dinners, bake less…” he looked me dead in the eyes, “feed me, uh, less?”

He popped up off the bed. I felt my stomach, ostensibly full, drop. He came over to me as I stuttered and tried to say something that would solve this. But before I could get a single full word out, Shadow was speaking. “Silver. How much do you weigh right now?”

“Uh, like 130 pounds?” I was still nervous.

“Good. I want you to weigh 150.”

“What? Shadow, what are you t—”

“I’ve been cooking and baking specifically for you. I want to see you fat. I want to see you get fatter and fatter. I want to stuff you full of as much food as you can eat. I want you to get fat, then obese, then I want to feed you until you can’t move.” His pants had a noticeable bulge.

I was dumbstruck. “You… I’m not… You want me to…?”

“I want to keep feeding you and keep fattening you up. What do you say?” That was an open-ended question that seemed to have a lot riding on it.

“...You like… this?” I motioned to my fat body.

“I love it. I love seeing you full, but still eating more. Your hands and your mouth covered in butter, your body growing under my grasp.” His dick was straining against his pants.

“...Well, I, uh…” I looked at his face, which gave me no clues, “we can do it for a bit. I’ll, uh, see what I think.”

“Good.” The oven beeped in the other room. “How about some cookies?”

And now, a couple weeks later, I’ve eaten a lot. All in all, I’ve gained almost sixty pounds. I outgrow shirts about every week and a half, it would seem. My moobs have grown, and I’ve developed a second chin. My stomach is so heavy and jiggly. Shadow likes to play with my stomach with one hand, shoving pastries down my throat with his other hand, open-palm. My thighs are so wide and jiggle with every step. I can barely reach my dick now. Shadow really does seem to like it though. He makes these comments that I, in a strange way, have started to appreciate some.

“I bet your ass would feel so good against my cock. Maybe it's too fat for my cock to even reach into you.”

“You’re only a couple of weeks away from not being able to get up. Then I can feed you as much as I want, no matter how full you feel.”

“Keep getting new chins and soon it’ll be hard to find your mouth. Maybe I can fuck one of the fat fold you have instead. It’d save your mouth for eating.”

“I’ll be able to fit my dick in your navel at this rate. I’ll just lean in farther and farther, and it’ll just disappear inside you. And when I thrust, I’ll fuck all of the hard work I’ve done on you. I’ll thrust against your insides, hidden under all of your blubber.”

“I think a hose would look good in you. It would just fill you with lard. Tie it onto your face, and you could do nothing but feel your legs give in to your weight. Your cock would hide under a lard-filled bean bag. Rrrf. I could fuck you so hard.”

“I should lie you down on your back and sit on your belly. My cock would sit between your tits so nicely. You could suck me off with your gluttonous maw while I fuck your breasts.”

When I burped in between bites, he’d bite his lip and his cock would throb against my belly. When I panted when I climbed the stairs, he’d come up from behind and grope me, his bulge trying to work its way through his clothes into my ass. When I had reached my limit and begged for him to stop, he smirked in that devious way and gave me one last big bite that I would struggle to swallow, and he’d ask me to keep begging.

I hadn’t seen Shadow so horny before. We’d had sex before, but never like this. Whenever I wasn’t eating something, I had his dick in me. Up my ass, in my mouth. He’s been getting more and more interested in putting it in my navel. He’s getting closer to doing it. I like Shadow’s attention and his attraction, but I’m not sure about the weight. But I suppose I should get used to it. I’m gaining weight so fast. Shadow feeds me enough to feed two every few hours. Maybe this was all a mistake. I guess I’ll only know if I can walk in a month’s time.


End file.
